


Freak of Boredom

by DragonJellyBeanTears



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drug Addiction, Injured Sherlock, Rehabilitation, Seizure, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-18 08:33:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonJellyBeanTears/pseuds/DragonJellyBeanTears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is taken hostage by a man claiming to serve a "Dragon" . With a knife to his throat, Sherlock tries to remain calm, but with half of Scotland yard pointing their guns his way and a mad man pressing a blade against his throat, its hard to not panic..a little.<br/>Features drug rehabilitation in later chapters.<br/>This is a friendship fic created for BBC Sherlock fandom's lovely CumberBitches and FreeBitches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a friendship fic created for BBC Sherlock fandom's lovely CumberBitches and FreeBitches.  
> Sorry I have not written in awhile. Been caught up. Forgive me for any grammar/spelling mistakes.  
> Leave your thoughts and comments below :)

Sherlock had remained still and mostly silent throughout the whole ordeal. A mad man, red hair and rather large, had been on the run. His name was Fred Tusk. An average man for an average looking serial killer. But he wasn't, Fred had been killing off drug dealers under the orders from a "Dragon" and Sherlock being Sherlock had been mistaken for a dealer instead of the buyer. John will kill him once he finds out what he was doing in the mall. Sherlock sighed inwardly and then gasped in pain as the man pulled his curls back and added more pressure to the blade. Sherlock could feel a trickle of blood run down his neck.  
"Let me go... Let me go pigs!" Fred yelled, edging back to the railing.  
Sherlock stumbled with him, crying out when pressure was added to his broken leg. John had his gun drawn and his face was screwed up in its normal concentration and anguish at the sight of an injured Sherlock.  
"Let him go and this can end a lot better than it will" Lestrade called out.  
Sherlock groaned at Lestrade's poor choice of words. "YOU MEAN TO SHOOT ME! AFTER I DID THIS CITY A FAVOUR! RIDDING IT OF CRIMINALS!".  
"I am not-" Sherlock snapped before being roughly smacked across the face again by Fred's free hand. Sherlock could feel the swelling of the side of his face rise again, where he had been pistol whipped before.  
From the corner of his eye he could see John move forward but was pushed back by a police officer.  
Sherlock felt a strange metallic taste in his mouth but was too preoccupied to deduce the meaning of it.  
Sherlock felt his knees wobble and his good leg buckle under exhaustion of supporting his broken one. He fell before he could catch himself and Fred, taken by surprise and panic pulled himself and Sherlock to the ground. Sherlock felt the blade slash his his neck and back. Extreme nausea and fatigue came over him. He knew something was wrong. It was not the excruciating pain from the broken leg or the slash wounds from the blade or the pounding of his head, but a strange feeling spreading throughout his body. His muscles tensed extremely tight and he lost control of his body. Seizure. Sherlock's vision faded fast and he yielded into the abbess of pain

\----------

John felt his heart drop a mile when he saw Sherlock enter a seizure. Sherlock's head and body, even his broken leg, where shaking uncontrollably. Sherlock was frothing from the mouth and his face had turned a deep shade of red and purple from oxygen loss. John yelled out in panic and watched helplessly as his friend smacked his uncontrollable limbs around on the newly polished shopping mall floor. Fred, who seemed to recover from his shock spun around and ran, not getting far before he was tackled to the ground with a loud "thump".  
John and Lestrade ran over to Sherlock.  
"Sherlock! SHERLOCK!" John yelled reaching his friend and pushing him onto the side so he wouldn't swallow his tongue.  
"PARAMEDICS! DONOVAN! CALL PARAMEDICS!" Lestrade yelled. Donovan nodded and quickly spoke into the radio.  
Sherlock had began to slow his convulsions, his eyes fluttering shut, and his breathing haggard.  
"Sherlock, can you hear me" Lestrade asked.  
"Wa-wait for him to finish" Watson mumbled, he was pale but held Sherlock with anew determination.  
It was another minute before Sherlock finally sucked in air and his face went back to his usual pale white skin.  
"Sherlock?" Watson called gently pushing sweaty curls from Sherlock's forehead.  
Sherlock moaned but remained unconscious.  
"Should we turn him onto his back? I mean...his leg" Lestrade said pointing out the oddly twisted limb.  
"No, not yet. His neck may have been injured during the convulsions" John said, feeling Sherlock's faint pulse.  
Donovan ran over, her eyes grew large as she saw how badly Sherlock was injured, "The paramedics are here" she said to Lestrade.  
As if on cue, two paramedics pushed past her and Lestrade, "What happened?" one of the paramedics asked.  
"He...ah...seizure...and broken leg, hostage situation" Lestrade answered.  
"His name?"  
"Sherlock" John said.  
A paramedic leaned close to Sherlock, "Sherlock? can you hear me? Sherlock?" the woman asked. Sherlock made no movement. John felt his heart drop even further.  
"Alright... let's strap his neck and leg " she said to her partner while slipping an oxygen mask over Sherlock's face.  
"Do you need any help?" John asked.  
"Take his shoes off" She said.  
John obliged and carefully pulled Sherlock's shoes off and handed them to Donovan, who, for the first time made no complaints about Sherlock.  
They managed to place a strap on Sherlock's leg and put his neck in a cast before lifting Sherlock with as much care as they could, onto the stretcher.  
John ran along side them as they pushed the stretcher, with the unconscious Sherlock, through the mall to the ambulance.  
People they past had their phones out, filming the infamous detective as he lay helpless on the stretcher. John wanted to punch every one of them, and vowed he would if he found the video on the internet.  
"You ride in the ambulance, I will follow after we send Mr Tusk to a very small cell" Lestrade said, patting John on the back as they watched Sherlock being loaded into the back.  
John nodded and jumped in. It seemed with a flash of Lestrade's badge, it wasn't required that John be a relative of Sherlock to ride with him to the hospital. 

After a few minutes in the ambulance, and an IV drip, Sherlock seemed to be semi-concious and mumbling something about the periodic table. The nurse had placed a cold cloth on Sherlock's forehead to try and control his fever. Sherlock, even in his state, seemed to not enjoy being touched by a stranger, "No....no...zinc ions travelling at 10%..." Sherlock trailed off again.  
John smiled and squeezed Sherlock's uninjured hand, "You'll be fine".


	2. Chapter 2

"Mr Watson?"  
John looked up at the voice. A small, rather gentle looking indian man approached, "I am Doctor Saanaj". "How is he?"  
"He's out of ICU and being transferred to a private room. The surgery went well. His leg will make a full recovery but I'm afraid the tissue damaged from the knife wound on his back will leave a scar".  
John nodded, "A scar won't bother Sherlock"  
"There is something..however..Can we speak in private? I'll walk you to his room"  
John followed in silence, worried whether the doctor would say Sherlock's seizure had resulted in brain damage. Once they were in the room John looked to his friend. Sherlock was sedated and asleep. He wore a white hospital dress and his broken leg was supported by three fluffy pillows. His arm and chest were attached to various machines and an oxygen mask had been placed over his face.  
John brushed a few fallen curls from Sherlock's forehead and then looked to the doctor expectantly.  
"When we prepped him for surgery, we found track marks on his arm" The doctor said pointing to Sherlock's newly bandaged arm.  
John felt his face turn red with anguish. How dare they judge his best friend for something in the past "They are old ones, he had a drug problem but he's over it, way over it" John said.  
The doctor's shoulders slumped and he turned to Sherlock's arm and unwrapped it, revealing angry and relatively new needle marks, "I'm sorry for your friend's relapse, Watson, I truly am"  
John froze with horror and disbelief. Sherlock had promised him he wouldn't relapse.  
"Since it is cocaine we are dealing with, it is a serious issue, the police have been notified, a detective Lestrade will be around shortly" John felt relieved that it was Lestrade that had been told. At least then, Sherlock had a chance at avoiding a court case and imprisonment. "The hospital has facilities close to here that can help him"  
John nodded, trying to control his anger at Sherlock's betrayal. He knew that if Sherlock wasn't in such a weak state he would of hit him right in the face.  
"Have you told his brother?"  
The doctor nodded, "It appears Mr Holmes already knew of his brother's predicament before we even finished the surgery".  
"He is the british government" John mumbled.  
"Pardon, sir?"  
"Nothing" John sat down on the chair next to the head of the hospital bed. He would of held Sherlock's limp hand but he felt disgusted at being lied to. In fact he was surprised he had managed to keep so calm and collected in front of the doctor.  
"If you need anything more just use the call button" The doctor said gesturing towards a phone, "I have to leave but I will send a nurse around with information about rehabilitation centres".  
Once the doctor left, John turned back to an unconscious Sherlock, "You promised me, you lying bastard"  
"Really, John? That is no way to speak of the ill" the voice of Mycroft Holmes said.


	3. Chapter 3

"You told the police about Sherlock"  
"Why of course, my little brother has been down this road before, a road that nearly cost him his life. I have made arrangements that will ensure he gets the correct treatment before things deteriorate further" Mycroft said, tapping his umbrella as he watched John.   
"Nearly cost him his life?" John asked.   
"Before he met you John, he overdosed. Detective Inspector Lestrade was the one who found him, a minute longer on Lestrade's behalf and Sherlock would of died".  
John turned and looked to Sherlock who was still fast asleep. The thought of him never meeting Sherlock because of a matter of minutes frightened him.   
The sudden appearance of Mary made John sag with relief. "I came as soon as I can" she said embracing John. John closed his eyes and leaned into her comfort. He felt like crying. He felt betrayed. The same feeling he had experienced when Sherlock had revealed he faked his death off St Bart's Hospital.   
Mycroft left moments later, making John promise to call or text him if Sherlock's condition changed.   
Mary, sensing John's exhaustion, brought them both coffee from the cafeteria two floors down. They both sat and sorted through the list of possible rehab centres the nurse had given them, "John, this one, Yorkstone Rehabilitation, not too far from our house" she said handing him the pamphlet. John flipped the pamphlet over and agreed. The closer the better.

"Jo..hn" Mary and John both looked up to see Sherlock stirring. Sherlock's eyes were heavy and it took him awhile to open and adjust them to the room. John's relief suddenly turned to anger as he held the pamphlet up to Sherlock's level, "See this!"  
Sherlock gave him a questioning look, "What?..John..." Sherlock's voice was lazy with sedative.   
"I know. I know you lied. You promised me Sherlock ...PROMISED... but then again your promises mean nothing do they?!" John shouted. The beeping of Sherlock's heart monitor speed up as he stared at his friend's outburst with confusion.   
"I know about your drug use! We all do! Lestrade, your brother... your going" John said.   
"Going where?" Sherlock questioned, his eyes averted from John's and staring off into the distance.   
"TO REHAB, YOU SELFISH JUNKIE!" John shouted, "You know sometimes I think they are right Sherlock, you are a freak, only a freak would take cocaine because they were bored!" John felt his heart drop when he realised what he had said. Mary had visibly stiffened beside him and John wanted to kick himself for calling Sherlock something he thought would never cross his lips.   
Sherlock's face blanched and his eyes started to water before he could stop himself.   
"Sherlock..." John sighed reaching for his friend's hand. Sherlock turned away from him and pulled the covers up.  
"LEAVE.. ME ...ALONE" Sherlock hissed from beneath the white cotton.   
John left the room and Mary followed afterwards.   
"I didn't mean.."  
Mary squeezed his hand, "I know, John, I know".


End file.
